Page 19 of That Last Secret

My plan tonight was to finally take someone back to my place and get over this dry spell. If she was anyone else in the world right now, I’d be pulling all my cards to takeherhome with me.

But she’s off-limits, I remind myself.

Why does she have to be this distracting?

“All I see is red,” Mason says beside me. “And I’d love to fucking see it on my bedroom floor tonight.”

My head snaps in his direction, and a protective rage bubbles deep inside me, threatening to come to the surface. NowI’mseeing red, and it’s not from her dress. I don’t allow myself torespond, and he doesn’t acknowledge the reaction written all over my face.

She’s not mine, I keep repeating to myself.

I have no right.

It’s not my job to protect her.

And I’m supposed to be fucking avoiding her.

“Be right back,” Mason announces, placing his glass on the high-top table before scurrying off to the dance floor where the girls are.

“Ready to head out?” Silas offers, knowing exactly where my head is.

I shake my head in response to his question but keep my sight set on Mason as he approaches Emiline. He whispers something in her ear, and whatever it is makes her smile.

Her eyes briefly flicker to mine before she pulls her attention back to him. It was so quick that if I blinked, I might have missed it, but it was just enough for my body to react in a way I’m not familiar with. My heart rate picks up, and chills skate across my skin.

All it took was just one smile and one look.

But what did he just say to her?

What is she thinking right now?

Her body sways to the music while Mason moves effortlessly with her. I can’t tell if their bodies are connected from where I’m standing, but they might as well be.

Her tight red dress rides up, and suddenly, my blood boils.

When his hands find her waist, I snap.

My feet move before my brain can react. I drop my drink on the table and walk toward them, ready to tell Mason to fuck off and bring Emiline home. Maybe not home with me, but away from him.

Except this time, I stop myself short.

I want to break his hands for even thinking of touching her, but I can’t.

She’s not fucking mine.

Why am I this fired up?

I shouldn’t be. I really fucking shouldn’t be.

I groan and turn around, returning to where Silas stands and refusing to look at him. If I do, he’ll want me to explain what the hell that was, and I don’t even know myself.

Is this what it feels like to be… jealous?

This is a wildly new feeling for me. Just the idea of Emiline being with someone else makes me possessive. But I can’t let the anger consume me, even if I want it to be my hands on her.

I want to be the one holding her.

I want my body to be pressed against hers.

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